Happy
by lilyflowr33
Summary: Best friends means that you do anything to make the other happy. OneShot


Disclaimer: I do not own School of Rock.

* * *

She convinced herself a long time ago that all she wanted for Freddy was for him to be happy.

Every time she saw him smile or laugh, she would get a little warm glow in her stomach, and she would tell herself it was because he was her best friend, and because best friends always want each other to be happy.

Or that's what her mother told her.

She'd watched him through various girlfriends and countless dates, and even though she despised each and every one of the girls, she never interfered. Because he _chose_ them each and every time, which must mean they made him happy.

Right?

Upon occasion, she would learn that the at-the-time girl would be losing interest, and she would do everything in her power to keep Freddy from learning that small fact. She would make sure that whatever he was doing wrong, she would make him fix before the girl would dump him. She would persuade herself that she did this to make sure he never got hurt, and any other reason behind her actions would get swept into a far corner of her mind where she would never venture until the darkest times of her life.

Because she kept him from pain in this way, he became proud and cocky, something that, even though she hated those qualities in other people, never annoyed her. She would dismiss them a social faux pas and never bring it up again.

She told him everything, except for the girlfriend thing, and always relayed him every part of her day. She never left anything out, because she felt if she did, she was betraying him. But the reverse never worked. He was a boy of few words, and when asked personal question, always replied with a simple, "I don't know," or a smile and a shrug, the latter always giving her a chill up and down her spine.

She never questioned his friendship with her, never asked him if she meant as much to him as he did to her. She had never actually heard him say she was his best friend, but at the same time, he had never denied it. Which is all she needed, really. Because he was always there when she needed him most, and that's really all she cared about.

She'd find herself knowing the most detailed things about him. She knew his entire class schedule by heart, the exact color of his eyes, the lines on his face when he grinned at her playfully. He hated English and History, but was amazing at Science. Truth be told, he helped her most of the time in science, instead of the other way around. His favorite candy was Skittles, his favorite color was green, and under no circumstance would he ever choose a favorite song or artist. He told her he couldn't choose; there were just so many.

They had a daily routine. Mornings, depending on who was ready first, they would meet at each other's lockers. Grabbing a few choice friends along the way, like Zach and Katie, they would walk about campus, talking about whatever was going on at the time in the band. They would walk together for as long as they could before they had to separate to their classes. If their first period of the day was together, or near each other, he would walk her, and help with any books she had. They had the same study hall period, and lunch, where they would always be seen together, either studying, or just messing around by the cafeteria. If it so happened that the band room let him use their drum set, she would sit by and listen while working on homework, even though she had no musical ability or interest whatsoever. She never left his side during these periods; it was never fun for her without him. After school was simple, she'd go to his locker, because he always had to leave early to pick up his siblings at elementary school. She'd walk with him to the parking lot, and watch him drive away in his car, knowing she'd see him only two hours later at band practice, but all the same, still feeling a sharp pain in her chest as his car disappeared from view.

This way of life suited Summer for the longest time, even if, deep down inside herself, it wasn't what she wanted, it wasn't what would truly make her happy.

And that was something she really needed to change.

* * *

It was lunch on a Tuesday at Horace Green Prep, and Summer Hathaway was staring intently across the quad. She knew it was obvious, and she knew she was being paranoid, but honestly, she didn't care. She was trying to figure it out, and she wasn't going to stop until that paining feeling in her stomach disappeared.

He was laying across the grass, leaning on a tree, with that blond bimbo of a girl draped across his lap. She smiled, he smiled, but Summer didn't. It was times like this when Summer felt like nothing to him. Like she didn't even exist.

"Chill, Tink, we all know he'll coming running back to you the minute it's over. Because they all end so very, very quickly. You'll have your day with Freddy soon," a voice behind her said.

"Zachary, I'm not interested in Frederick," she huffed in reply.

Zach laughed, then good-naturedly flopped his arm around her shoulders and started with her. "Then why are you staring?"

Summer sighed, and began to contemplate her answer before saying, "She wants to dump him."

"Then why is she throwing herself at him?" Zach asked. "Not to say I wouldn't mind it myself…"

Summer hit his arm. "You're such an idiot. I don't know! Last attempt, maybe?"

Zach shrugged and stepped away from her, as to get a better look at her face. "Just leave it be, Sum. Freddy's a big boy, he can take care of himself."

Summer tossed him a look.

"Okay, yeah, you're right, he can't."

Summer sighed as Zach walked away. _Happy,_ she thought, _that's what best friends do._ But that nagging voice in the deep dark shadows of her brain wouldn't let go. _Happy?,_ they said. _If that's true, what does he do for you?

* * *

_

"Sum, you can't torture yourself like this, you're only making matters worse," Billy whispered into her ear as she watched them from across the classroom.

"What the freaking hell does she do that I don't?" she spat at Billy, while gesturing at Katie and Freddy, who were laughing by the window.

"How can you be mad at _Katie_, of all people?" Billy responded. "Katie, the girl who can't even open her locker half the time? She and Freddy are a perfect match!"

Summer glared.

Billy groaned, "Summer! Not like that! You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I get it!" she said, "But why does it have to be _her_ that gets to know all his thoughts? Why does he tell her what he's feeling? Why is it her that he calls at night just to talk?" She pushed off the desk she was sitting on and stomped to the bookcase in the back of the room and pulled off a faded yearbook. Turning to the right page, she stabbed her finger at a picture of a young smiling blond boy, with his arm around the tiny brunette girl next to him. "Why would he choose her, when he's had me since the third freaking grade?"

Billy sighed, gently pried the yearbook from her hands, and placed it back on the shelf. "Summer," he soothed, as he guided her back to the desk she usually sat in during study hall, and carefully positioned her so she didn't face the window this time. "The point isn't that he chose her over you. Because he didn't. The point is that he has you. At the end of the day, Sum, who would he really turn to for help? It's you. I know, Katie knows it, everyone in this freaking world knows it. Everyone but you."

Summer looked up at Billy and sighed. "I'll take your word for it."

* * *

Summer never doodled much. But geometry came easy to her. And she had finished her homework 15 minutes ago. Her teacher had (not) surprisingly taken a coffee break. He hypothesis was that he went off to make out with that chem teacher in the janitorial closet (again).

Freddy was biting his pencil next to her, working on the proof she had easily completed during the lecture. It was only her and him in the class out of the band and their only class alone. Freddy could have easily sat next to his other friends in the class and left her to mingle with the millions of girls whom she couldn't _stand_, but he didn't. It was times like this that made Summer realize that Billy was right. They were the perfect image of best friends. Tomika had even written her English essay on them once. The prompt read to write about a quintessential example of loyalty. Freddy had laughed it off and walked away, but Summer stayed, hugged, and profusely thanked her.

And now she was doodling his name over and over in her notebook. She instantly slammed the book shut and paled. He glanced over and gave her a confused look. "What?" he asked her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded wordlessly and he went back to work. What was _wrong_ with her?

* * *

It was at the start of the second semester of school that Freddy stopped coming to her locker in the morning. She thought nothing of it, and accredited it to it being too cold outside. Freddy never liked the cold.

But two weeks later, he stopped walking her to classes too. It was then she started getting worried.

He didn't eat lunch with her anymore. Free periods, he would only come if there was someone else there. It was almost if she didn't exist to him anymore. But she never mentioned anything, because after all, he was still happy right? What friends are for, you know? But Summer was beginning to feel that she didn't know at all.

* * *

"Marta!" she whined on the couch of Dewey's one day after practice. Her head rested on the pillow behind her and Marta was trying to comfort Summer. "I can't do this anymore!"

Marta patted Summer's back in comfort. "Sum, hon, you don't have you. He does this to every girl in his life sometime or other." She paused. "I should know." Marta sighed with regret.

Summer looked over at her. "He didn't mean to hurt you, you know."

Marta narrowed her eyes. "Summer! You have got to stop cleaning up after him! He is _not_ your responsibility!"

Summer sighed and glanced around the room. The coffee table in front of her was in complete disarray. _Rolling Stone_ magazines were lying open, shut, and ripped. Clear imprints of beer bottle rings from Dewey and Ned stained the wood, along with the Coca-Cola bottle stains that Summer was sure the boys spiked anyway. Well, she always hoped Freddy didn't. He always assured her he didn't, but he was Freddy, so what could you expect? Beyond the table, guitars rested quietly on their stands with picks carelessly thrown on the floor by them. The framed album covers that line the wall hung crooked, and some of the glass had either cracked, or fallen out long ago and cleaned up shortly afterward. But the only thing Summer's eyes really looked at was the drum set placed in the very spot Dewey's old mattress used to rest. The sun that glared in the from windows behind it made it glow. Right now, it was the only thing in the house that was neat. Freddy always took good care of his set, even if it was past curfew and he was in danger of a grounding for a month plus.

Summer just wished he took as good of care of her as he did his set.

Couldn't he see that she was miserable? That she missed how they were before? Maybe she was in love with him like everyone else said. Maybe that's why she cared so much. But she didn't want to be. She couldn't bring herself to admit that she wanted to be like so many of those girls he was with all the time. But at the same time, she didn't even want to come close to them. Because they never lasted. Ever.

She glanced over at Marta, who was looking at her with eyes of sympathy. "I know he isn't," then she paused. "Is it bad for me to want him to be?"

Marta gave her big and sympathetic eyes. "Summer," she cooed.

"This is so unlike me too!" Summer shouted out to the empty room. "I'm Summer Freaking Hathaway! I'm independent and elf-confident!"

Marta smiled up at her friend as she stood up and gained that determined look that the bad all knew was especially "Tink".

"I don't need Freddy," she stated proudly. "I'm happy just the way I am." And that's when Marta saw the face fall.

Summer crumbled back down into the couch. "Then why does he affect me so much?" she choked out as tears began to spill.

* * *

Summer fiddled with her locker. It was the end of her freshman year. Time to clean everything out. Getting the lock off her locker, she opened the door and was greeted with the many smiling faces that adorned the pictures hanging there. She looked with care at all the pictures of her and a certain blond drummer. Sighing, she ripped them down carefully and placed them in her garbage bag. She realized last night, as she contemplated how the next morning would go, that she had long ago explected too much of Freddy. She had built up this perfect image of the best friend she would never have. And he would never give it to her anyway, even if he was capable.

By this time, she had talked to every single band member except Freddy about how she felt, including Dewey. The best advice she received though, hadn't been from any of them. It was from her mother. The last person who Summer thought would notice her depression over the subject of Freddy. Not that she knew it was Freddy.

"_Summer?" her mother asked after school one day as they were driving home. "Are you okay? You seem off lately."_

_Summer turned from the window to her mom and gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'm fine Mom, just tired."_

_Her mom sighed as they came to stop at a red light. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out chapstick and begin to apply it on. "Honey, don't lie to me, I know you too well."_

_Summer glanced back at her mom, but didn't reply._

"_Summer, sweetie, who ever it is making you this way, they're not worth it."_

"_Isn't not a person Mom," Summer lied back. Suddenly a pang of guilt resonated in her heart as the light turned green and her mom began to drive again. "It's just…"_

_Her mom quickly glanced at her daughter before returning to the road._

"_You said that friendship meant that you do anything to make the other person happy," Summer stated as they drove into their garage. "But that's really hard for me and it didn't use to be and I don't know what I'm doing wrong and…"_

_Her mother interrupted Summer's rant, "Honey," she said while pushing the hair out of her daughters eyes, "just remember; you have to make yourself happy first if you want to make someone else feel the same. How do you know if someone else is happy if you don't know what it feels like for yourself?"_

That was the push Summer needed. She had made a decision the night before and she was one to stick by them. So as she peeled off each picture of her and Freddy from her locker, she could feel herself getting stronger and stronger. She still felt like she wanted him, even more badly than before, but she needed this, for herself. She needed to be that Tinker Bell that Dewey saw once in the 5th grade classroom. And Freddy wasn't helping.

"Sum!" she heard someone call from down the hall. She knew that voice.

Freddy ran up to her as she turned to face him. "Sum, awesome I knew you'd be here. Listen, I was going to go up to Ned's place in a few minutes to go and…"

Summer held up a hand to stop him. "Sorry Freddy I can't."

Freddy stopped suddenly surprised. Summer had never said no to Freddy before. Ever. At least not since 5th grade. "W-what?"

Summer closed her newly cleaned locked and gathered her trash, protruding from which were pictures of her and Freddy that he could see clearly. Torn pictures that made his heart hurt. "I don't have an on and off button, Freddy. You can't always expect me to be waiting for you."

Freddy stuttered, "I don't, I was just…"

"I'm meeting Zach at his house. We're going to a movie with Katie," she cut him off.

Freddy gaped. Then almost silently whispered, "But Sum…"

"No Freddy, I can't. You can't do this to me anymore," she said to him. Looking him right in the eye, she thought this would be the hardest part of her day, and she was right. Every word she spoke caused another stab of pain in her heart. "I need this."

And she turned and walked away. But for the first time in a long time, Summer Hathaway was beginning to feel happy.


End file.
